


No One To Judge

by oddandproud



Category: X Company (TV)
Genre: AU, Canonical Character Death, Death, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddandproud/pseuds/oddandproud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened down there, in the basement, that the rest of the team doesn't know about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One To Judge

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like Rolf and Neil had tone of chemistry and was actually rooting for a makeout scene. It didn't happen tho. So I wrote this. Please enjoy.

 

Niel's steps are slow and measured as he walks down the stairs. It's that walk that screams 'something's wrong!' Rolf's stomach plummets as the reality of the situation hits him. Neil reached the landing and he stopped, each motion like he was moving through treacle. His face was no longer hard as it had been before when he was all muscle and righteous rage, but it was still like a rock- heavy, cold.

“You're here to kill me,” Rolf said, giving voice to the queasy realization.

Neil nodded. “Yes.”

And that was that. The simple sort of confirmation made it nearly surreal. Rolf nearly smiled at the ridiculousness of it. They never taught you at the academy that death would come in the form of a quiet and stoic man, or that he'd talk to you like an equal, no trickery or manipulation in sight.

“Can I have a drink first? Or a cigarette?”

Neil shook his head. “No time.”

Neil still hadn't moved from the bottom of the stairs. Rolf's adam apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, hard. He tried to steel himself. He tried to keep it together, if only to maintain some sort of dignity.

_It would have happened anyway. They would have found out- found out about how he tried to help the women, how he hated his job, the cause, the lying, or how he-_

Rolf clenched his jaw.

“Do it, then.”

 

Neil pulled the knife out of the back of his trousers, but didn't move for a moment. He'd done this before. He was good at it too. They'd both seen it. But it was easier when Neil didn't know the victims. It was usually in the heat of the moment: kill or be killed. Not the deliberate murder of a young man, a few years his junior. You weren't supposed to vote on it either.

It was harder now that he knew his sister's name.

Finally, Neil started to move. The couple of steps across the room felt like it took forever. Their isolation was felt, sharp and cold in the damp basement. Neil tried to keep his face as even and unmovable as he could. Rolf tried as well, but was less successful. Rolf's face tensed.

“How fast will I go?”

The question threw Neil. He'd never counted. As long as the enemy didn't get back up, he didn't give a damn if it took a second or a day for them to die. He tried to do the math in his head. “Couple of minutes.” he said, eyes flickering down to the German's torso, mentally marking out the plan of attack.... The plan of attack on someone chained to a pipe. Rolf was in shape, as German soldiers were commanded to be, so it wouldn't be as quick as it would be. He looked back up to Rolf's face.

Rolf seemed to take it in stride. “There are worse ways. I've seen them.”

Had he? Or was this a lie? Neil cursed mentally. He hated how spying meant that the line between truth and fiction grew increasingly blurry. It was fine when it was just him and his team, lying to get the upper hand over the Jerrys, but the reverse left him lost. He didn't have the smooth-talking skills that Tom pulled off with ease. He envied that right now.

Rolf leaned in a bit. “Is it strange,” he began. “if I say it was nice to meet you?”

He didn't move, except for his eyes. Neil searched Rolf's face for any trace of dishonesty, not even sure what it would look like. How could he say something like that?

“I'm glad it's you doing it...” Rolf continued. His eyes were imploring, his voice soft. “...And not a stranger.”

 

He was going to die. It was surprisingly liberating. He was going to the next place and there wasn't any way to get out of it. Rolf figured, somewhere deep down inside, that there was no one here to judge him except for his God.

With a quick lunge, Rolf kissed Neil with a passion and abandon that can only be described as ravenous. He pulled on his bonds, straining his joints to get closer to the broad-shouldered man. He had bruises from this man, from not 2 hours ago. He was nearly drowned by him. Yet, here he was, desperately trying to get a taste of his lips. Maybe they were right when they said people like Rolf were deviants.

Rolf truthfully thought that Neil would have killed him right there an then, stabbed in the heart. A few seconds passed, yet Rolf was still alive. Miraculously. His eyes fluttered open, searching Neil's face. Shock seemed to be the prevailing emotion. Rolf pulled away an inch, awaiting his fate. It was only a matter of time. The cold steel of the knife still glittered in the man's hand. Rolf was so busy watching the blade out of the corner of his eyes that the sensation of Neil's other hand grasping Rolf's neck shocked him.

 _Strangulation!_ , he thought, eyes wide- only to grow even wider as the barrel-chested man pulled Rolf in for a deeper kiss, just as hungry.

“How long...” Neil asked when they pulled apart a moment later. “How long have you known about...”

Rolf swallowed. Who was here to pass judgement. He was already going to hell. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the British said. “Always. Y-You? How long did you-”

“China. Coupl'a years back.”

Rolf laughed. “Who'd have known?” he asked, not to Neil, or anyone in particular. He just said it because it felt funny. Two enemies, almost friends, almost more, definitely more similar than he'd thought possible. Two enemies... The thought brought Rolf back to the unpleasant present.

“You're still going to kill me, though.” He said.

“Yeah.”

Neil stepped back and the space between them widened. “No choice. I'm-” He stopped himself short. Rolf's shoulders sagged. That was the best he would get to an apology.

Rolf stood up straight again. “I'm going to hell. You might as well.”

“See you there.” Neil responded. It was a statement, devoid of any familiarity or warmth. An acknowledgement of a mutual fate.

 

Rolf looked down at the blade again.

“It's cruel to make me—-”

 

 


End file.
